


vermillion

by sionnacha



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Blood, Crying, F/M, First Kiss, Heavy Angst, Manga Spoilers, No Smut, canonverse, this is honestly miserable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:15:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24389515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sionnacha/pseuds/sionnacha
Summary: Eren’s mouth tastes of blood—like putrid liquefied iron, and still, she cannot stop herself from diving in for more. Even though the earth around them is scorched, even though there is rubble and ash everywhere she looks, all she wants his him.
Relationships: Mikasa Ackerman/Eren Yeager
Comments: 5
Kudos: 76





	vermillion

**Author's Note:**

> First published in 'mixtapes'.

Eren’s mouth tastes of blood—like putrid liquefied iron, and still, she cannot stop herself from diving in for more. Even though the earth around them is scorched, even though there is rubble and ash everywhere she looks, all she wants his him.

His hands are tangled in her hair and he is pulling roughly through the wet inky strands, grasping desperately at her face—but despite the roughness, she finds herself keenly aware just how much he’s trembling and his digits linger around her jaw. She gives in again and again, sighing into Eren’s mouth, blood mottling her lips, metal on her tongue, invigorated by the sharp clinking of teeth as the intensity grows.

This was not how she ever thought that her first kiss with Eren would go; she had always envisioned her kissing him under the tree back home in Shiganshina, just for the sake of nostalgia—but it’s a funny thought now, because Shiganshina is decimated and the walls are no more, the tree where they would have kissed crushed underfoot by the numerous colossals. The world as they knew it was going to be destroyed, and yet, there were here, kissing on the remnants of a battlefield. Part of Mikasa feels ill and part of her just doesn’t care at all. This is what she what she wanted.

Eren’s grip on her falters; he tumbles to his knees, looking weary and pale, the very large stab wound that she inflicted failing to heal. Perhaps it was from his own lack of determination, or maybe it was due to the fact that his titan abilities were no more, she wasn’t sure—all she knew is that he was bleeding out, and that he was dying in front of her.

Mikasa scrambles to his side as he keels over, turning to lie on his back as he splutters and coughs blood up, flecks of it staining her already ruined shirt, a prominent pool of blood wetting her knees and hands when she attempts to prop him up.

He looks at her and doesn’t say a damned thing: his eyes dulled and tired from having seen enough, from having been through enough, from having made the decision, pulling the trigger and deciding to end it all. 

“I’m sorry,” he wheezes quietly, forcing himself to keep his eyes open, unable to quell the tears that have begun to slip down his cheeks; the wetness melding with the smears of dried in blood. Delicately, he covers the back of her hand with his own where it rests on his chest, and Mikasa hates how cold he feels to the touch. Eren sniffs miserably, heaving a sob so devastating that she thinks that she wants to curl up alongside him and die as well.

“It—It wasn’t meant to be this way,” he cries, weakly wiping a trail of blood from his nose. “It wasn’t meant to come to this.”

It takes everything in her power for her not to scream as she feels tears brimming; how could he not have expected this to happen, how could he not have envisioned the demise of all things, as well as his own death. But she doesn’t, instead she bends at the waist, clenching the fabric of his tunic at his chest, and kisses him. It is not wanting and passionate—it is chaste, terribly so, and it feels like a plea for him to stop talking.

“I love you,” she breathes against his lips, own eyes screwed shut. “Please, please… Don’t go.”

Eren then goes too still, too quiet, and Mikasa can feel how his entire body has gone impossibly slack in her hold, how his lingering hand covering her own has slipped from his chest, falling at his side, knuckles scraping the dirt.

Not a moment later it all sinks in for Mikasa, and it all becomes too real and too painful. She whines, sad and unsatisfied, deep in her throat like a wounded animal. With desperation, she presses her fingers over his chest, checking for something, anything, presses two fingers to his jugular for a sign of life: there is nothing. As if to drive the stake further into her chest, she presses her ear to his own; remembering how she once did this years ago, and how the situation was so different this time around.

She does not hear a heartbeat.


End file.
